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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808819">Hoping You'll Hear Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/richardnoelchris/pseuds/richardnoelchris'>richardnoelchris</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Mighty Boosh (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:41:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24808819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/richardnoelchris/pseuds/richardnoelchris</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a jazz singer who hauntingly sings at the cemetery every night, but one night in particular he decides to sing to a specific someone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Howard Moon/Vince Noir</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hoping You'll Hear Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Inspired by <a href="https://un1c0rntea.tumblr.com/post/621209699113648128/your-tags-are-making-me-so-happy">this post</a></span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>The cemetery is ancient, it's quite gloomy, but also quite beautiful and serene. Bats circle the area, crows land majestically on tombstones and an owl hoots quietly nearby. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A tall man approaches the cemetery, he walks as if in a trance, some sort of jazz trance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is whistling a made up tune, clicking his long fingers and lightly swaying his head from left to right. A "Skee bop doo bop" escapes softly from his lips which turns into music notes, big black music notes, visible only to those who choose to listen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops near a tombstone, pulls out a tiny chair and tiny piano from his pocket and as if by magic, he makes them larger by clicking his fingers over them until they reach his height.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gently sits down, cracks his finger knuckles and begins to play, lightly caressing each note, twitching his moustache, he starts to sing a jazz song, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lover Man </span>
  </em>
  <span>by </span>
  <em>
    <span>Billie Holiday</span>
  </em>
  <span>, hoping to finally reach the required audience member. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don't know why but I'm feeling so sad</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I long to try something I never had</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Never had no kissin'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, what I've been missin'</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lover man, oh, where can you be?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He closes his eyes now as he knows the melody well and he begins the next verse, his voice like warm honey, a real treat for the ears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The night is cold and I'm so alone</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'd give my soul just to call you my own</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Got a moon above me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But no one to love me</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lover man, oh, where can you be?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moon replied "thank you for mentioning me Howard Moon. You play so beautifully." </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Howard smiled up at him, not who he was intending to gain attention from, but grateful nonetheless that someone was listening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> Suddenly the wind started to pick up and his poncho was blowing in the breeze as a ghostly figure began to take shape slowly, rising gracefully from his grave stone, his raven, black hair blowing beautifully in front of the whites of his eyes and his tiny pupils. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's working !</span>
  </em>
  <span> Howard thought. So he continued and the figure floated closer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Someday we'll meet</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And you'll dry all my tears</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Then whisper sweet</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Little things in my ear</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hugging and a-kissing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, what I've been missing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Lover man, oh, where can you be?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As the song finished the ghostly man sat next to Howard on a log and placed a bony, skeleton like hand on his, Howard looked to his right and smiled, his black tears leaving tracks down his cheek. Vince wiped his tears, closed his eyes and kissed the singer on the cheek, then he whispered "I enjoyed your song."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Howard replied relieved. "I'm glad you could hear it Vince." The ghostly man put his head in the crook of Howard's neck.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by a lovely drawing of Howard Moon in a Tim Burton style by @un1c0rntea and by @pleasedontaskthemoon 's tags on this post.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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